Pink Peonies, Roses and Strawberries
by Pocky King Windy
Summary: *Slash* Aragorn/Legolas/Elrond - This story is a bit out of context. It takes place when Aragorn was, well, Estel. ^^; He developes a passion for a certain fruit...


Pink Peonies, Roses and Strawberries  
  
Spring Special For Clover Patch - Was supposed to be written and posted in the patch in April, but I procrastinated. Badly. Thank goodness I still have this to post up, one last fic in FF.net?  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: The characters belong to the Great Sir Mr. J.R.R. Tolkien. The fanfiction is mine, however! Please don't take it. NOOOOOOOOO! Let it go, leave it for poor Windy! *Clings*  
  
Note: Please don't worry about the title. I'm suddenly brain-dead. I ate too much cheesecake. And I dreamt of strawberries for nights. Then there was the big bunch of posies I saw in some shop years back. I still think of them… uh, now and then again. XD  
  
WARNING! Slash warning. Please do not proceed if this offends you! This story takes place years ago when Aragorn was Estel. I don't think I need to explain this. And as usual, I don't like big, tall, gigantic Elronds. I don't like monotonous tones of voices and I don't like grim faces in spring. Not the in-thing for Windy. He likes nice Elronds with nice smiles and nice tones of voices and he shouldn't be too tall. (^^;) Well, ah. Never mind Windy's quirky sense of fashion and idiotic-ness. Please enjoy!  
  
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Spring drew light again to the Elvish fort of Imladris. Along with the gentle breeze blew life, and the green of grass was then sprouting again. Everything was beautiful -- the flowers then began to bloom, and the animals were starting to awake from their slumber.  
  
Little Estel was very busy. He was working hard on a patch of garden that his foster father had given him to play with. He had also gotten many nice seeds that Mr. Glorfindel had given him, and the rose trees that he had planted two years ago were starting to flower again. Earlier that spring, he had planted peonies, and a patch or wild strawberries had appeared mysteriously in the patch by the small daisy pots. They were flowering quite well, and Estel was pleased. Not that he liked strawberries much, but his foster father did love them.  
  
"He works hard in his garden, doesn't he?" Elrond commented, as he watched his foster son dig the soil and water the plants in the patch. Glorfindel nodded smilingly. He knew that Estel had also kept the strawberries, although he wasn't fond of them. Estel looked up to Elrond no end, liking the kindly half-elf from the bottom of his adorable little human heart.  
  
"It's good for a young child to love nature so much," Glorfindel smiled brightly. "It helps soften the destructive spirit found in humans."  
  
Elrond smiled blandly at Glorfindel's speech. He knew what he was hitting at. Glorfindel easily worried for him; he cared, but…  
  
"Remember Isildur," he said warningly. "Do not be fooled by how it looks outside --"  
  
"I do remember Isildur," Elrond murmured under his breath. "A great man, felled by power and greed. Two very harmless things to the physical body, but how dangerous to the mind… I know, I remember it all too well. But I too, can understand what he has gone through, my friend. I am, after all, half -"  
  
"You're more elf than human," Glorfindel added quickly, trying to soothe the half-elf. "You're not like him. Don't hurt yourself, Elrond!"  
  
"I'm not like him, but I did like him," he laughed shakily. "I trust you to know of my affairs as well. You're afraid that one day I will fall for his heir, aren't you?"  
  
Glorfindel was dumbstruck. He shrugged and looked at Elrond. "I have my reasons to be so. I didn't mean to hurt you, but do be careful. I sincerely think that Estel is a fine lad, and he will continue to be a good person, but let me warn you, Elrond, that humans don't live forever… You're too valuable to lose, for us and Middle-Earth."  
  
"Thank you, Glorfindel," Elrond smiled. "That was… nice."  
  
They exchanged grins for a few moments before Elrond turned to the doorway. "Shall we call him in now for a meal? He does look hungry, poor child…"  
  
"He'd be very much pleased if you prepared some of the meal yourself," Glorfindel lifted his golden brow. "He doesn't like strawberries, but he does adore ices… preferably cherry sorbets. You should add glazed cherries to them, too."  
  
Elrond laughed. "I'll keep that in mind… Mayhap you'll take more of the share, don't you think?"  
  
Glorfindel blushed between his sheepish grin.  
  
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Estel had quite forgotten his manners as he gulped and slurped down most of his liquid food. He sat grinning at his foster father, who was somehow more amused than annoyed at his behavior. Estel was pleased with himself and his achievements of his patch. Buds had started to appear in the peony plants and the roses were already flowering. He had also caught a glimpse of yellow, unripe strawberries beside his peonies.  
  
"What tidings have you of your garden, Estel?" Elrond asked kindly. Estel smiled and nodded excitedly.  
  
"I squished the bugs and saved two rose bushes," he said evenly; keen on showing off to the Lord of the house. At that, Glorfindel shook his head and laughed at Elrond's stunned expression.  
  
"I smashed their heads." Estel made an action with his thumb and fingers to show Elrond how it was done. "Their juices dripped out so quickly that they were soon dry. Then they wouldn't be able to destroy the plants! Aren't I brilliant?"  
  
Elrond goggled at Estel, albeit horrified at his explanation. Glorfindel cuffed Estel on his head, and nodded quickly. "Uh, well, he means well. He wanted to protect the plants…"  
  
"I can understand that," Elrond managed a half-smile. "What have you grown?"  
  
"Oh, I have the roses from two summers ago, and then there are fresh peonies that are now budding. There's… there's a wild patch of fruit growing in the patch."  
  
"Fruits?" Elrond smiled. "Ah, they will certainly bring good harvest with such a zealous caretaker as you, Estel. Are you done with your meal now? Would you like some dessert?"  
  
Estel blushed at the compliment. He was also rather relieved that Elrond had not asked him what fruit he had cultivated. Estel did like his foster father, but he was also rather frightened and shy about showing real affection to him, as it was not the custom of the younger generation to do so.  
  
  
  
Spring pirouetted along with the fragrant breeze it had brought with its coming. Glorious mornings frisked gently across the grassy realm, carrying along with it rich a blessing of sweet fruits and blossoming buds, filling the skies with birdsong. Such were the days of the elvish fort of Imladris.  
  
Estel was excited. He had noticed that the wild strawberries that he had tamed and cultivated in his patch had been ripening quickly with the days past. His plants had grown rapidly with the generous help of the sunshine and the showers, as well as by his hard work. The flowers were simply gorgeous, large blossoms decorating the trees, the peonies dotting the green and contrasting foliage with a bright cherry blush, the roses clustering the hedges with a peach-pink glow round the thorny stalks and dark emerald leaves. The strawberries were a bright crimson, juicy to its sun drenched perfection.  
  
Estel picked hard that morning. His foster father had gone out with some elves from Mirkwood for a stroll in the valley, and he had wanted terribly to surprise Elrond with his bright harvest. Estel had learnt good crafts from his eldest foster brother, who had taught him basket making and a little bit of floral arrangements. Although Elladan spent most of his time outside Imladris, mingling with the men, his elvish ways had gotten the better of him. He relaxed easily with crafts and exquisite things of elven-made, and had secretly enjoyed teaching Estel the ways of Elvish art.  
  
Estel carried the large basket back to Elrond's chamber and set it on his dressing table. He opened a cupboard and fetched out a large glass bowl, which he had polished a night ago, along with several colored glass stones that Elladan had gotten him on his trip with the men to a town. He had hidden it well enough, for Elrond had hardly the time to run through his drawers for playthings. Estel filled the bowl with the stones, and then carefully, filled it up with clear water.  
  
The roses and peonies were rinsed with a little water before he trimmed the long stems to shorter, more manageable ones. He pushed the peony stems in between the stones, making sure that the delicate petals did not fall off in the process. Once a large spray was formed, Estel turned to the roses, gathering them up in a cluster of threes. He pushed them alternately with the cherry tinted peonies till and attractive dotted pattern formed in the bunch.  
  
Satisfied with the results, he then sat down with a few long, straight sticks that he had managed to collect in the woods. Carefully he pushed the end of the sticks to three strawberries each, clustering them up as he did the roses. He pushed in five sticks into the arrangement, alternating it between the peonies and the roses. After he was done with that, he placed the remaining strawberries into a woven basket, laced with a pink and apple green checkered woolen cloth.  
  
Estel grinned. He was sure of the surprise his foster father would feel upon seeing the dazzling arrangement he had created all on his own. All he needed to do now was to write a message to Elrond.  
  
He hunted for the piece of tinted paper that he had hidden in Elrond's drawing table, but much to his surprise, he found none. Estel began to hunt frantically through the drawers, in search of it. In his frenzied hunt, he did not notice two elves enter the room.  
  
"Estel!" Elrond was shocked at the state of his room. The drawers were turned out and the cupboards were ransacked, as if Estel had been looking for something he was forbidden to touch. Estel froze for a moment before turning around and catching Elrond's eye.  
  
The little boy's eyes began to water as he furiously tried to think of an excuse to give his foster father for rummaging through his room like that. He knew that Elrond would be angry, because there was also a guest present to watch the embarrassing moment. Upon seeing his face, Elrond softened his tone.  
  
"Estel, come now," he coaxed. "There's nothing wrong with being curious. But do tell me, what are you looking for?"  
  
"I… I was looking… for a piece of paper…"  
  
"Paper?" Elrond lifted his dark brows questioningly. "Were you rummaging through my letters now, child?"  
  
"N-N-No… I'd never do that!" Estel said truthfully. He turned to Elrond, shaking. "I didn't mean to, I wanted to -"  
  
"Look at these blossoms! That's such an exquisite arrangement!" Estel was startled by a strange, melodious voice drifting to them from a corner of the room. A golden haired elf stood marveling at the bouquet of flowers at the dressing table in the half-elf's chamber. He beckoned to Elrond, wishing him to look at it.  
  
"Don't you think they're wonderful?" he asked, winking at Estel. "The strawberries look tasty, as well! I wonder who grew them to such a juicy texture?"  
  
Estel grinned, quite forgetting his fear. "I did! Thank you very much!"  
  
"Ah, that is a polite gentleman," the elf replied, nodding smilingly. "What is your name?"  
  
"Estel," Estel replied quickly, in a rush of words. He was drawn in by the strange elf's golden beauty, and his melodious tone of voice. He knew not what he was feeling, but it was a sickly sweet, pleasant sensation. "I'll be eleven tomorrow!"  
  
"And so you shall be," he laughed. "My Lord, here is a very brilliant child! I like his ways."  
  
"As do I," Elrond smiled. "They're so sweet, Estel! You've got a flare for the arts, have you not? I had no idea that you liked strawberries."  
  
"Well, I don't… not really," Estel blushed, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "I… grew them for you. You like strawberries; I heard you say that to Glorfindel once…"  
  
"For me?" Elrond was overwhelmed with joy. "Why, thank you, Estel! That's very thoughtful of you!" He bent down, wanting to hug Estel, but he stopped, knowing how the boy was terribly shy of public shows of affection. Elrond contented himself with a pat of the shoulder, and a very happy grin to show his appreciation.  
  
Estel moved forward, surprising both Elrond and the golden elf with what he did next. He forcefully gave his foster father a hug, tugging at the dark hair. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he felt Elrond embrace him back.  
  
"Thank you for not getting angry with me," he whispered. Elrond laughed gently. He drew away and smiled at Estel, his gray eyes glazed with unshed tears.  
  
"I'd never truly feel angry with you, child," he kissed the child's forehead. The golden haired elf smiled at the little event. He had heard about Estel from Elrond, who was constantly praising him. He had also guessed that he might not be able to match the heir of Isildur for a half-elven heart. But it mattered not to him. So long as his loved ones were happy, he never really minded what pain he would undergo…  
  
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Years passed, and soon Estel was twenty years of age. Estel had reached manhood as with the standards of men, and Elrond was extremely proud of how his children had grown up to be good people. He was quite fond of Estel, and loved the young man as he did his own flesh and blood.  
  
Estel, however, had undergone a change in his coming of manhood. He viewed the things of beauty differently now, and he did love his foster father, even more than he did himself. He was no longer a little boy, and he could feel… certain feelings he was sure felt right, no matter how wrong they sometimes were to others.  
  
For example, it felt right for him to be in love with Elrond, although he knew that it felt wrong to the Elves of Imladris.  
  
It was spring again in Imladris. The flowers were blooming heavily on their branches and stalks, scenting the air delicately with their perfumed fragrance. Estel walked briskly in the afternoon sun, trying to find his way though the thick foliage. He stopped when he caught sight of a familiar landmark.  
  
It was his old flower patch. It was now overgrown with weeds that had choked most of his plants to death. Estel felt his heart crumbling, remembering how hard he used to work in it, growing things to please his foster father and the golden haired elf, whom had introduced himself as Legolas of Mirkwood.  
  
Estel sat down among the shrubs, tugging hard at a weed. It was rapidly uprooted, and it was at that moment when Estel caught a glimpse of red beneath the shrubs…  
  
  
  
Elrond sat by his dressing table, brushing his dark locks and humming softly to himself. He was too busy disentangling his hair to notice a shadow slip into his room behind him. It was already dark outside, and Elrond felt too weary to be alert enough just then. A crack brought him back to his senses as he spun around to see Estel standing at the end of the room, behind him.  
  
"Estel!" he exclaimed, pulling the transparent cloak around himself to cover his nudity. He blushed, remembering that Estel was now already a man, no longer a little child, by men's standards. Estel could… comprehend many things now, which were sometimes forbidden, even in the free elvish realms.  
  
"Good evening," Estel started forward, his gray eyes flitting around and past his foster father's outfit. He felt a shiver run down his spine as his keen sight pierced the delicate elvish material covering Elrond's voluptuously curved body. He smiled, his hands behind his back, as he stepped in closer to the half-elf.  
  
"Estel…" Elrond inched backwards, a little frightened at Estel's intense look. He felt the wall on his back and looked away, as his foster son made his way to bar his foster father's exit. Gingerly he titled the elf-lord's chin upwards, and brushed his lips slightly against Elrond's.  
  
A rush of fire ran through his veins, like a burst of adrenaline and electricity. Estel closed his eyes and deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue against the half-elf's cherry-colored lips. Elrond unconsciously embraced his foster son back, dropping the material in his passion.  
  
They broke apart after a few moments, with Elrond blushing furiously and picking up his cloak hurriedly. Estel grinned sheepishly at his foster father. He shuffled uneasily, and made his way to the cupboard. With a swing he opened it, revealing a striking arrangement of peonies and roses, just as he had done years ago, when he was a child. Beside it was a small basket of strawberries. Estel grinned and took a bite out of one.  
  
"I never really liked them at first, but that was because I've never tasted your mouth then," he remarked. He then stood up and embraced his foster father.  
  
"Thank you for not getting angry with me," he whispered airily, stroking Elrond's dark locks. Elrond laughed gently. He drew away and smiled at Estel, his gray eyes glazed with unshed tears.  
  
"I'd never truly feel angry with you, child," he kissed Estel's forehead. Outside, the golden haired elf smiled at the little event. He had heard a lot about Estel from Elrond, who was constantly praising him. He had also guessed a long time before that he might not be able to match the heir of Isildur for a half-elven heart. But it mattered not to him. So long as his loved ones were happy, he never really minded what pain he would undergo.  
  
Quietly, Legolas of Mirkwood made his way back to his chamber, singing the elvish songs that he had been taught as a child in the woods…  
  
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The End  
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End file.
